


In All Things

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:34:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5764906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tea ceremony, and friendship. Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In All Things

“We said we’d widen each other’s horizons, didn’t we.” Abbie helped Ichabod cart the boxes into her living room. “So let’s do this tea ceremony thing today, shall we?”

Ichabod opened one of the boxes, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he did so. “You’ve nothing else pressing?”

“As much as I’m looking forward to cleaning the oven, it’ll keep,” she deadpanned. “Besides, you love tea. I gave you donut holes, you give me tea.”

“A gift for which I shall be ever grateful.” Ichabod began to unpack the various tea pots and other tea paraphernalia. The items kept coming. Abbie watched his hands work. He had fantastic hands - wide palms, long fingers. Pianist’s hands. Spellcasting hands. He left the room briefly to fill a large, beautifully hand-painted teapot with boiling water.

“What do I need to do?” she asked.

“Would you assist with moving this coffee table? Just a bit further forward. A little more - ah yes. We should be able to sit either side of it, cross-legged.”

Abbie did as he bade.

Ichabod set out all the little teacups and a bag of loose leaf tea next to the teapot. When he opened the paper bag, the delicate fragrance of the jasmine pearl tea started to infuse in the air around them.

“It was during my time in Washington’s service that I learned of this ceremony.” He adjusted his coat-tails as he spoke. “A man from southern china had joined as a mercenary of sorts. He had fled his home nation after his family were murdered.” Ichabod swallowed, his mouth drawn into a firm line. “He was nothing but kind to me despite the harrowing experiences which had shaped his life. And he made me tea like this, always.”

Abbie reached out and squeezed his hand. “What happened to him?”

“I must confess, I don’t know. It is my dearest hope that he found peace, either back in China or this side of the world.”

He took a shallow clay bowl and placed it in the centre of the table, then arranged four tiny teacups, round and handle-less, within the bowl. “He called this ceremony Gong Fu. First, he bade me to cleanse and warm the drinking vessels.” He took the filled teapot and poured a thing stream of water over and into the cups in a figure-eight pattern.

Abbie watched as he emptied the small cups and warmed and rinsed them again. Only then did he sprinkle a generous helping of jasmine leaves into the teapot, leaving it to steep.

“Odd, isn’t it. We develop all these rituals the world over,” Abbie mused.

“Each of them a comfort to us, a moment of calm in a tempestuous life.” Ichabod counted - in a language that sounded a lot like Chinese - and then released a breath. “My friend advised that counting to ten in Mandarin would allow sufficient time for the first infusion.”

He lifted the teapot and poured a thin stream of tea in a circle, encompassing all four small teacups. “This may seem a little wasteful, but it ensures that all the cups contain an equal amount of tea - and in equal strength.” He set the teapot down. “This can be done as many times as liked, or until the tea runs out. It was my understanding that negotiations were resolved this way, with the tea paving the way for diplomacy in the ancient world.”

Abbie chuckled. “And now we have donut holes.”

He offered her a cup. “Many of which have cemented strong relations, I am sure.”

They drank their tea. The delicate flavour danced on Abbie’s tongue. She watched Ichabod’s face and saw the sadness flicker on his features; he was thinking about the man who’d taught him this very ceremony. Her heart squeezed for him.

“To absent friends,” she said softly.

His gaze cut to hers. “Lieutenant, it constantly surprises me that you have the perfect knack of saying just the right thing, when I am in most need of it. I am honoured to receive your counsel.”

She smiled into her cup. “Such as it is.”

“No, truly. There is no one I would rather have by my side, no one I feel I could rely on more than you, Miss Mills. That is why I am so keen for us to share our lives, our pasts, our secrets, with each other. We are together in all things, are we not?”

“We are. You’re not getting rid of me now.” She wanted to enfold him in a huge hug, run her fingers through his marvellous mane of hair, kiss him senseless. But the table was in the way. So she settled for smiling over at him, drinking in every detail of his face. “And since we’re together in all things, let me try and pour the tea this time.”


End file.
